Post 17 - Uniformity

Posted on Tue Jan 26th, 2021 @ 1:41am by Admiral Maurice Chambers & Fleet Admiral Sturnack

Mission: Episode 1: Acta Non Verba
Location: CinC's Office, SFC Complex
Timeline: Day 11: 1530 Hours

[CinC’s Office]
[SFC Complex]
[Day 11: 1530 Hours]

"Admiral," Sturnack nodded to the man who'd just been granted entry into his office. "I understand that you have an important…" he let the word hang pregnantly, "matter to discuss with me?" The Vulcan — firmly into his second century of life at this point — leaned back in his chair, furrow lines deeply embedded in the crags of his face as his right eyebrow upturned behind steepled fingers. The way he emphasized 'important' seemed to indicate the topic of the meeting was actually quite the opposite, though Sturnack was known for being direct enough to say these things when necessary. Perhaps he was unsure and needed convincing?

"Please, have a seat and let us discuss what brings you here today," Sturnack demurred, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "If you would like refreshment, Commander Glenn would be happy to assist," he nodded towards the woman who was, at present, collecting a stack of PADDs from his desk.

Marlena Glenn smiled — arms now full of PADDs — and waited to see if the Director of Starfleet Operations was more of a coffee or tea kind of man. Behind her, in the back left corner of the office, a member of the CinC's security detail watched the exchange with a neutral gaze.

Maurice Chambers was a matter-of-fact man, and as someone who had been running Starfleet Operations for more than a decade tended to be a common sight in the Command Complex. He sported the newly approved uniform in all its vileness. "A sparkling mineral water, chilled, from France if you have it. You know, the little green bottles?" Chambers asked the Commander rhetorically, his voice was firm, fatherly, and accent that of someone who had never lived anywhere long enough to develop one of note.

He continued his walk to the proffered seat and slid into it comfortably. His new uniform immediately attempted to choke him to death as he tugged the tunic down fitfully before turning back to the CinC with a friendly smile, "Thank you, Admiral. As you know, the new uniforms have completed testing and, as usual, Starfleet Command has been designated to be the first to wear them. Yet, Starfleet Operations is the only division doing so." Taking a pause of his own, he cocked an eyebrow adding, "Present company included."

Commander Glenn nodded in the affirmative. "One very specifically-sourced water coming up," the woman smirked. "Sir," she offered to Sturnack in parting before fading away into the background, slipping out into the anteroom beyond.

The Commander-in-Chief passively eyed Chambers' battle with his uniform, noting how uncomfortable the man looked to be wearing the garment. Unlike his own uniform -- with grey, threaded shoulders and a thick black, utilitarian unitard -- the Vulcan noted how garishly colorful and pointy the new version was. The sight provoked a yearning for the sharp and shiny blues from a hundred years prior. Blues that matched a certain face he would never see again... The thought was set aside as the Admiral responded to Chambers' thinly-veiled complaint.

"Yes," Sturnack nodded, "I understand the new uniforms have officially been approved for use. Logic dictates Starfleet Operations would be the earliest of adopters," he conceded. "And while this is my first day as CinC, I was quite familiar with the matter as DCinC," he noted. "However," Sturnack's right eyebrow slightly rose, "there was some disagreement on trend-setting the transition from Fleet Admiral McGarry. Something about his father's mother's tracksuit and playing dominoes in the park?" The Vulcan seemed oblivious to the intended meaning. "He was quite passionate about delaying the switchover as long as possible. However, from my own view, a uniform is just a uniform, is it not?"

Maurice shook his head, exasperated, "Look, the uniform is terrible, but FLEETPERS followed the correct procedures, and somehow, God knows why, this uniform was chosen. Since Fleet Personnel Command is under my purview, we were the first SFC division lucky enough to be selected."

The aging Human paused. Chambers had never been an overly tactful person in his youth, and what little there had been was long gone, but he forced a smile onto his face as he continued, "McGarry delayed the inevitable because he was on his way out. I'm afraid you don't have that luxury, Admiral. The other Starfleet Command divisions were to have adopted the new uniform two full weeks ago, and the regulations were approved by myself with McGarry's assent. So, unless you can explain the logic in defying a duly executed FLEETPERS regulation, I would respectfully request you and your staff wear the correct uniform. I believe the rest would fall in line in short order, and I can avoid having to reprimand people who should know better."

"I believe you misunderstand my meaning, Admiral," Sturnack said, offering no challenge to the man's assertions. "Fleet Admiral McGarry offered resistance: I do not," the Vulcan said, rising from his chair. "Please coordinate with Commander Glenn," he gestured towards the door, "and she will ensure that a directive is drafted and sent throughout Starfleet Command. How much lead time would be sufficient for outstanding personnel to replicate and begin wearing the new uniforms?" he asked, his expression quite impassive. "And will dominoes be needed?" His eyebrow said Vulcan Stoicism but his words were almost...a joke?

His gray shoulders rose as onyx-clad arms were clasped behind his back, Sturnack then moving to the replicator inset into the wall. The unit was meant to serve light refreshment but was capable of producing the necessary items the Fleet Admiral had in mind. Calling up the associated files, it took only moments for the stacked items comprising his new uniform to materialize in a haze of sparkling matter re-assembly. The garment was virtually a copy of Chambers', though Sturnack's was, of course, tailored to his own measurements.

He turned back to the Operations director then, holding the clothing stack in one hand and his new combadge in the other. The communicator was a simple arrowhead chevron now, bereft of the golden "wings," as they'd come to be called. Sturnack swapped badges but did not recycle the old one -- oddly, he placed it on his desk, as if intending to keep it for some unspoken reason.

The Human felt himself sink into the chair as the need for his argument evaporated. The wind in his sails depleted, a smile tugged at the corners of Maurice's mouth. "I'm not entirely sure I was supposed to know that," he said, commenting on the Vulcan's preamble. "After more than a decade of sparing with McGarry, it will take me a little while to adjust to someone more... reasonable." A bottle of sparkling water appeared in his periphery, and he accepted with a smile and a nod. Pressing his lips to the bottle, he took a sip of the refreshing effervescent liquid and used the moment to pivot past all of his planned arguments, "I think if your staff switch to the uniform, we can forgo the memo. Once they see the CinC is wearing the uniform, it will quickly become quite awkward for the ones not."

"I respected John a great deal," the Vulcan -- surprisingly -- used the first name of the former CinC. There was almost a glimmer of something there, though whether it was a flash of unexpected sentiment or simply a respectful pause was unclear. Given that Sturnack was Vulcan, the latter seemed more likely but if so, why use McGarry's first name? "However," the CinC continued, "that does not mean that he and I always agreed on these matters. You will find, Admiral," he nodded to Chambers, "that I am quite partial to sound and logical arguments. I will wear the uniform today and require my staff to begin tomorrow. I sense, however," Sturnack leaned back slightly, steepeling his fingers, "you are not fond of the change yourself?"

Chambers, sensing the meeting was coming to an end faster than he had expected, had levered himself out of the chair and set to smoothing the uniform, "You sensed that did you?" He paused for another swallow of the carbonated water and shrugged, allowing an exasperated sigh to escape, "So, I don't know how it made it past the field studies and the focus groups. I kept expecting the results to force the committee back to the drawing board, but it kept getting good marks. I could have quashed it, I suppose, but Captain Othoriass would have been crushed." Holding one of the sleeves out, he chuckled, "You probably won't be surprised to know that Othoriass has a thing for racing. The good thing is we only have to wear these for four or five years, I'm already planning a mid-cycle refresh."

Sturnack picked up the uniform top from the stack he'd set down, allowing the garment to hang and unfold with gravity's assistance. The golden striping and piping denoting him as a member of Starfleet Command ended at the tips of the pointed sleeves of the new topper. "Sometimes a good leader must embrace unexpected change, especially when driven by the passionate efforts of those under their command. I applaud your dedication to your people, Admiral," the Vulcan carefully folded the tunic, setting it aside once more. "Thank you for bringing this matter to more prevalent attention. Was there anything else?" he asked, eyebrow expectant.

Raising the little green bottle in a sort of mini salute, Maurice smiled, "No, Admiral Sturnack, I thank you for your time, and I shall take no more of it today." Turning, he confidently strolled from the expansive office with another fatherly smile and nod toward the Vulcan's aide.

A Post By

Fleet Admiral Sturnack
Commander-in-Chief
Starfleet

and

Admiral Maurice Chambers
Chief of Starfleet Operations
Starfleet